What We Do For You
by Whas'up
Summary: Destinies have been changed. People are not who they once were. Such is not the work of the Gods.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Okay, a few years ago I had an account over on a site called Survival Instinct, I wrote this story over there and now am posting it here. I was Funnyman over there and I am now Whasup here. For those of you who think this story is familair I would like you all to know that I AM NOT STEALLING THIS STORY, I PROMISE!**

Bill Adama leaned over an ill-placed table in his quarters and grabbed his uniform out of the equally ill placed closet. He turned to look at Saul as he threw his uniform on top of his rack, "Are you really gonna press charges against Kara?" he asked as he turned and grabbed his boots out of the bottom of the closet.

Saul looked out at the room with a scowl as he took a breath and laboriously raised himself off of Bill's leather chair. "For striking a superior officer?" Saul asked as he raised a framed picture off of Bill's desk, the picture held a young Bill and his two sons when they were children, "You're damned right I am," he continued.

"Heard you started the day off pretty early," Bill said, looking at his friends back with thinly hidden concern.

"I wasn't on duty," Saul muttered as he turned with the picture in his hands and brought it back with him to the leather chair. He raised it and smiled at Bill, "Now, where did you get this?"

Bill sighed as he sat down on his rack and wipped his face with the towel he'd used to shave with, he smiled a smile that looked like a grimace. "Tyrol's deck gang scrounged it up." Bill threw the towel over his shoulder and asked, "I couldn't talk you out of charging Starbuck, could I?"

"Not a chance." Saul said with a firm shake of his head, "She is insubordinate, undisciplined."

Bill pulled on his left boot and began to lace it up, "She's probably one of the finest fighter pilots I've ever seen in my life."

"Yeah," Saul barked sarcastically.

Bill nodded his head, "She's better than I am," he looked over at Saul, "twice as good as you."

Saul looked up, his eyebrows rising towards the ceiling, "Like hell."

"Listen," Bill said as he pulled on his other boot and began to lace it up, "I'm not gonna defend what she did, especially the cracks about your marital problems. But you did kick over the table first."

"I did not," Saul said indignantly, after a second he turned his head away, trying to remember, "Unless I did."

Bill nodded as he took the towel off his shoulder and rubbed his still damp face. "You did. So what do you say we just drop the formal charges, throw her in the brig, cool her heels off until we get home?" Bill stood up and reached for his uniform jacket.

Saul stood and returned the picture back to Bill's desk, "You always did have a soft spot for her," he said with resigned and amused shake of his head.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just a crazy old man."

"I guess that's why Headquarters is sending a baby sitter to watch over you," Saul said as he walked aimlessly around Bill's quarters.

Bill began to button up his jacket as he whipped around to face Saul, "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You didn't hear?" Saul asked, surprised. "Oh, wait," He said as he shook his head, "I was supposed to tell you yesterday." He looked back up at Bill and shrugged, "Sorry. But anyway, they're sending some Colonel Roslin guy to watch over during the decommissioning ceremony."

"When did we get this?" Bill asked.

"Yesterday, Colonel Roslin will be here later today, at least that's what Headquarters said."

* * *

"You've got new orders, Siren," Commander Wycott screamed across the Golden Fleeces CIC.

Laura turned to look at Wycott over her shoulder, she murmured a brief, "excuse me," to the technician she was talking to and made her way towards him. "Sir?" she asked as he passed her a slip of paper, still warm from the network printer.

She read the slip quickly and looked up at Wycott, who shrugged, "Sorry, Siren, those come straight from Headquarters. Galactica is being decommissioned, and they want you there to assist in its transition into a museum."

"But why?" she asked in disbelief as she looked down at her new orders again.

Wycott leaned towards her conspiratorially, "You didn't hear this from me, okay?" Laura nodded her head warily. "They're worried the Commander over there is going to be a problem, an old war horse not ready to retire, you know?" he said.

She nodded, "Are they forcing his retirement?" she asked.

Wycott shrugged.

"Alright, well why me? I'm a Colonel for fraks sake," she said with a disbelief, "they couldn't send someone else?"

Wycott shrugged again.

Laura rolled her eyes, "Thanks Eddie, I don't know what I would do without you." Laura sighed and walked towards the hatch.

"But seriously, Laura," Wycott said as he rushed up to her side, he grabbed her shoulder lightly, "make sure things go smooth over there. The Fleet isn't getting alot of good PR lately, another embarresment and it would be your ass on the line this time." He smacked her on the ass and pushed her towards the hatch with a wink, "Golden will be waiting for you!"

Laura shot daggers at him with her impressive glare, "Touch my ass again and I'll shoot you," she warned. She sighed and looked down at her watch, "Orders say to leave for Galactica as soon as I recieve them," she looked up at Eddie Whycott, "I'm taking Raptor 7."

He nodded and waved her away, "Have fun, and don't worry it'll only take you about a dozen jumps to make it to Galactica!" And then the bastard and laughed and laughed until Laura got too far away to hear him.

* * *

"Colonel Roselin?" Doral asked, purposefully mispronouncing her name as Laura slid down the ladder towards him, her rumpled uniform making her look decidedly unkempt. A dozen jumps does that to a person.

She picked up her bag, which she'd thrown down the ladder hole before her. She brushed the dust off her bag as she looked up at Doral; "Yes that's me. Are you Mr. Dorale?" she asked as she held out her dusty hand for him to shake.

Doral's eye scrunched, she was playing his game now, mispronouncing his name like he had done seconds before. He nodded his head and shook her hand firmly, perhaps too firmly, as she clenched her jaw slightly, but did not out and out complain. Doral was incredibly disappointed that this Colonel seemed to be an insanely calm person, he loved aggravating people. And military people were usually just so easy to aggravate. He broke the handshake abruptly and began to walk off, expecting her to follow him. He turned his head slightly to look behind him and saw that the Colonel was indeed following him, all be it at an extremely slow pace.

"Colonel Roslin?" he asked, this time using the proper pronunciation, as all had it had accomplished was making him look like an idiot. Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling and found his face.

"Yes, Mr. Doral?" she asked as she strolled down the hallway towards him. He turned away from her so that she would not see him roll his eyes, when he looked back she was inspecting some sort of valve on the wall. "Doral," she said in awe, "it's a hatchback maneuver valve. I've only read about them in books!"

Doral walked a few steps towards her nodding his head, "Right, that's wonderful, Colonel. But we are actually on a schedule, you're supposed to be meeting Commander Adama after his photo op with his son, in five minutes. So, please would you follow me?" he asked as he motioned with his hands towards the end of the hallway and beyond.

"Yes, of course," she said, straigtening herself and preparing to follow him, "This ship is just...so old," she said, smiling at Doral. "I can't even imagine it winning a battle, least of all against a Cylon basestar."

Doral nodded, "Well, I assure you it did," he said. He held an impatiant hands forwards, motioning for her to come along, "If you would, Colonel?"

* * *

"-at all familiar to you?" Apollo said.

Bill looked down into his water glass before replying, "That's not fair, son."

Apollo shook his head, his hands raising unintentionally, "No, it's not fair. Because one of us wasn't cut out to wear the uniform."

"He earned his wings, just like we all did." Bill said as he took another gulp of water.

Apollo closed his eyes and let out a silent sigh, he looked back up at his fathers back as he told him, "One of us wasn't cut out to be a pilot." He took a step forwards, "One of us wouldn't have made it into flight school if his old man, his daddy, hadn't pulled the strings!" he screamed.

"That's an exaggeration." Bill said as he lowered his glass back down to the table. "I did nothing for him that I wouldn't have done for anyone else."

"You've not even listening to me," Apollo said with a motion towards his ear, "why can't you get this through your head? Zak did not belong in that plane! He shouldn't have been there. He was only doing it for you. Face it. You killed him."

"Hello, excuse me." Bill spun around as Doral walked into the room. "Hi, Commander you have another meeting," Doral said as he looked curiously between Apollo and Bill. Bill looked up from Doral's face as a woman entered the room; her eyes scanned the room in a blur before she gave a crisp salute.

He and Apollo both returned the salute out of habit, before he asked Doral, "Who is this?"

One of the woman's eyebrows raised as she looked down at Doral with a shrug, "Uh, well, sir," Doral muttered, "This is Colonel Laura Roslin, she's been ordered by Fleet Headquarters to assist you in the decommissioning process of Galactica, she just arrived from her ship the Golden Fleece." He looked between a silently seething Apollo and the incredibly closed off face of Bill, "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

"No, no, it's fine," Apollo said as he made his way towards the hatch, "I was just leaving." He exited the hatch without another word, leaving Laura and Doral with Bill.

Bill looked away from the two other people in the room and poured water into his empty glass. They stood in awkward silence until an alarm on Doral's watch began to beep, he silenced it and looked up at Laura, "I have a meeting with the press corp. Feel free to," he looked at Adama's back, inclining his head towards him, "socialize." He left the room looking back at the silence only once.

Bill looked behind him as he heard the dull click clack of officers boots coming towards him. He looked up at her face as she grabbed another glass sitting on the table in front of him, her green eyes met his briefly, "Good morning, Commander," she said as she poured herself a glass of water. "I'm Colonel Laura Roslin."

"Nice to meet you," he said, his tone implying that it certainly wasn't, he sat down heavily on the lone chair next to the table.

She looked down at him as she swirled the water in her glass, "hmmmm," she hummed. Bill raised his eyes to see her looking about the room for another chair, seeing none she leaned back and sat on the tabletop. She flipped her red out of her face and smiled down at him. "How's it going, sir?" she asked as she leaned down closer to him.

"Fine."

"Good," Laura nodded her head and took a gulp of water, effectively emptying her glass. She placed it down on the table next to her with a sigh. "Well, sir, I'd should probably start working."

"Yes," Bill said as he stood up and made for the hatch.

"Sir," her voice stopped him, "you do know my orders here, don't you?"

Bill turned around, his eyes slitting, "Yes, I believe I do, Colonel."

"I'm here to watch you, they think you're a crazy old war horse," she said, smiling as she slipped off the table to stand in front of him. "But I'm a soldier, sir," she said, her head tilting upwards in pride, "I'm a Colonel of the Fleet and you, you are a Commander. I am no ones muzzle, you say what you wish when you wish, I won't stop you." Bill looked at her intently, his blue eyes meeting her green warily. She smiled slightly as she raised her hands in metaphorical surrender.

His eyebrow rose in confusion as scrutinized her, "Excuse me?" he asked.

"I would appreciate if you kept your more unsavory views to yourself though," at Bill's deepening glare she chuckled softly, "I'm only asking," she assured. Her eyes turned sad as she walked passed him, "This is my career on the line, and my career is my life, however sad that sounds." She shrugged slightly as picked her green military duffel bag up off the floor as she walked out the hatch.

**DISCLAIMER: Mine? Whaaaaat? Naaaaaa.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Feel free to review...you know, if you want to. Or even if you dont you still could...because...it would make me happy.**

The next morning Bill walked into CIC and found Colonel Roslin sitting in an empty station. She looked pale and drawn, and Bill wondered guiltily if anyone had taken the initiative and showed her to adequate quarters the night before. She held a wireless headset to her ear and had slumped forwards in her seat, frowning as she listened intently. Dee saw where his eye had landed and quietly informed him that Colonel Roslin was speaking with her commanding officer, Commander Wycott of the Golden Fleece. Bill nodded and went to stand and read documents in the middle of the CIC, his back to Roslin.

Yet even with his back to her, he heard her hushed voice, strangely clear to his ears, "Eddie," she sighed. "What...I don't know what you want from me," Laura said her voice sounding genuinly confused.

Laura, in fact, was genuinly confused, as well as tired and a little miffed. Laura had slept very little the night before, owing to the fact that the only available bed she could find had been in the pilots bunks. The occupants of said pilots bunk were loud and excitable, and the emergence of a Colonel in their midst did little to sway thier exuberance. And then, to make everything a little more delictable she woke up the next morning with an obviously drunk young man starring at her from the opposite bed. She had gotten ready for the day with the drunk man muttering vague things about her hair and her breasts.

Wycott's scratchy voice came to her over the wireless, "Siren," he said, "they aren't listening to me."

Laura nodded her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "What did they do?"

"The new navigation control programs," Eddie said, "the ones headquarters told us to implement with no deviations, do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember. I also remember the deck gang telling you that the programs were absolute garbage."

"It doesn't matter if they're garbage!" Eddie yelled through the wireless. Laura flinched slightly and pulled the headset away from her ear as she sighed. "When HQ," he spat venemously, "reviews the Fleet at the end of this quarter they are going to see that we didn't follow their clear instructions. And when they ask me why, what? Am I supposed to say the crew decided they knew what was best and wouldn't follow my orders?"

She brought the headset close to her ear, "Eddie, you're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" he screamed, "My crew doesn't follow my orders! My ship isn't run the way I need it to! And HQ is going to sweep in and give me a bad margin and then it'll be me that's forced to retire or demoted into hauling tylium till my back breaks! I can't eve-"

"Stop!" Laura yelled, her tone commanding and clear.

Seemingly all motion in Galactica's CIC stopped as Laura's command was heard and understood, Commander Adama turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. Laura looked at him sheepishly, scrunching her face in apology as she waved everyone back into motion. She turned her spinny chair towards the wall and continued, "Commander Wycott," she said, "You are a respected Commander in the Fleet, you are up for an Admiralty next round. When HQ does its review you will explain the tech crews position on the navigation programs, how they changed the programs, and how much better the ship runs with the changed computer protocol. You know you will do this, you know everything will be fine, so, why exactly are you so upset?"

She was met with petulant silence over the airwaves, until, "They didn't listen to me. I gave them an order, and they disobeyed."

Laura leaned back in her chair, her eyes turned heavenward as she sighed and rubbed her forehead; "I'll speak to them. Make it clear to those that don't understand that you are the Commander. But you need to calm down; sometimes the crew will not listen to us." She swept her hair back, "They're their own people, with their own minds, and when you make an order that they don't understand or agree with some of them will not listen."

"I," he took a deep breath, "I know. I know." He huffed in annoyance, "If only they listened to me like they listen to you." And then there was a click, signaling a hung up connection. Eddie Wycott apparently didn't want to speak any longer.

Her face twisted in annoyance, and with a roll of her eyes she spun back towards the center of CIC and called over the few stations towards Dee, "Could you please get Golden Fleece back for me?"

Dee looked at her in confusion, "Was your connection lost, Colonel?"

Everyone in CIC, including Bill perked their ears to hear her, "No, he hung up on me. Could you just get me the patch board operator over there?"

"Of course, sir," Dee said before she hunched over her station and began to press a few buttons.

Bill, having only heard Roslin's half of the conversation, was intrigued and ambled towards her; he leaned on her station, "Any trouble?" he rumbled.

"No, sir," she said, and Bill could practically see her spine straigntening, "it's fine."

Bill looked down at her, his blue eyes squinting in the harsh light. "Your Commander was upset," Bill stated. Green eyes glanced up at him, and Roslin smirked at him, and Bill was vaguely embarrased at having been caught eavesdropping. "He gets upset often?" he asked as he leaned down onto his elbows.

Her jaw flexed, and she looked uncomfortable speaking about Commander Wycott, "Yes, sir, he does."

Bill cocked his head to the side and decided that if he had to pull teeth for her to talk to him, well, then he would pull teeth. "His crew doesn't respect his orders?"

There was a subtle glare in her eyes as she answered him, "The crew of the Golden Fleece respect the orders of officers in their chain of command, sir. Implying otherwise-"

"I didn't mean to insult the Golden Fleece," Bill consoled. "I'm sorry," he rumbled, "I was only curious. And seeing as I'm on my way out, I was hoping you would tell me the truth."

She looked at him with a measuring gaze, Bill could almost see the calculations in her mind as she weighed pros and cons of telling him the truth. Finally she nodded, her lips pressed together lightly, "The crew doesn't like him," she said simply.

Bill's eyebrows rose, "Doesn't _like_ him?" he echoed.

"No, sir. I don't know how much intel you recieve out here in the black," she said, looking at him questioningly.

"I don't know anything about your ship or your Commander," he answered.

She nodded, "Commander Wycott is the son of the late Quorum delegate Sylan Wycott, he's jumped through ranks faster than anyone, and some people out there think that the Admiralty is only appeasing him for his connections in the Quorum."

"Are they?"

She nodded, "Yes, they are."

Bill let them fall into silence as he thought about everything she had said, and one thing became crystal clear to him. "You were stepped over, weren't you?"

She smiled at him, a cynical and not very appealing smile, "The Golden Fleece was meant to be _my _command when Commander Ellison retired, but they needed a ship for Wycott and mine was the easiest to give."

"They're your crew," Bill said, "They listen to you, obey you, and Commander Wycott is the interloper. You ordered them to deviate from the navigation controls."

Colonel Laura Roslin looked up at him, and there was fear in her eyes. What her crew was doing, what she was involved in would be seen as nothing less then mutiny by a HQ judge.

"Sir?" Dee called, smiling at Colonel Roslin, "I have Golden Fleece for you, sir."

"Thank you," she called toward Dee.

She made no move to retrieve the headset from where it lay, her green eyes studied him, stabbed through him as if he were an enemy. Bill reached down and grabbed the headset, placing it in her hands he said, "You do what's best for you crew, I understand that." And then he turned away and walked back to the center of CIC, facing her as he rifled through papers.

Laura's hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the headset to her ear, Bill Adama had just figured out what she'd been hiding for three months. Every order Wycott gave was showed to her, and then she would tell the crew what to do. It hadn't started out as a plot, or any sort of sneaky mutiny, it had started with one technician confused over Wycott's orders and asking her for clarification. But then more and more people would come to her, and she would change more and more of Wycott's orders. Everything she did was for the welfare of her crew, Eddie Wycott just didn't have the experience to lead a ship, and she, well she did. WIth a deep breath she addressed the Golden Fleece, "Hey Amy, can you get me Billy?"

Laura fidgeted nervously in her seat, observing Adama as he methodically read through the papers in his hands, until there was a click and a familair young voice came to her ears. "Billy here."

"How you doing today, Favorite?"

"Siren!" Billy called excitedly, "Scuttlebutt was that you'd been transferred, HQ finally got wind of what was going on. You okay?"

His concern instantly made her feel better, sweet, young Billy, "I'll be on Galactica for a week or so, helping in the decomissioning. I'll be home in no time."

He let out a deep sigh, and she could imagine that shy smile on his face, "You're calling all the way from Galactica? Siren, some of the other pilots might start to think you like me more then them."

"Billy," she said, "Your callsign is Favorite for a reason," she shook her head with a laugh, "they already know I like you better then them."

"Well," he said, his tone teasing, "I thought I was Favorite because all the ladies love me."

She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt, "When did you get so cocky?" she asked, her voice suddenly distant, "What happened to that sweet kid I once knew?"

"I'm still here," he said, making her heart soar.

Laura shook her head, "Billy, I need you to tell the crew to step lightly. Wycott is up in arms about the navigation controls."

"Got it, I'll tell them it comes straight from Mama Bear." There was a sort of shuffle noise in the backround and Billy's voice not directed at her before he spoke again, "I've got to go, come back soon."

"I'll try, take good care of Golden."

There was a click and Billy was gone. Laura sighed as she ran her hands through her hair, she stood and passed the headset back to Dee as she made her way out of CIC.

* * *

Saul Tigh was looking off into space as the decomissioning ceremoney went on. And on. And on. He had no idea why it took such an absolutely insane amount of time to basically say 'Hey this isn't a real ship, it's a museum now.'

"I'd like to thank you all again for being here," the civilian rat weasel Doral said, stirring Saul enough for him to take stock in his surroundings. "And, Elosha, thank you very much for those wonderful words." Saul rolled his eyes and once again found himself looking up at the great expanse of glass protecting him and everyone else in the retro fitted hanger deck from asphyxiating in space. "Next is a ceremonial flyby by the last Galactica Squadron, led by Captain Lee Adama."

Lively fanfare began to play from the speakers by the stage as Galactica's Vipers flew above the glass. Whispered 'ohhs' and 'ahhs' began to swell from the civilian audience. Saul looked down at the crowd and found himself looking at someone he didn't recognize. He nudged Bill with his elbow and waited for Bill to lean over, "Who is that?" he asked.

Bill looked at the back of the crowd where Saul was directing his gaze, "That's Colonel Roslin, my baby sitter if you remember."

"But that's a woman," Saul whispered back.

"I am aware of that," Bill responded before leaning back into his seat.

Saul watched as Colonel Roslin looking up at the Vipers as they passed before the glass, as the last one whooshed by she let her head fall back slightly to see it for as long as possible. When Saul had been told to expect a Colonel Roslin, he had expected a man. Reading through what little records were accessible about Roslin had also led Saul think she was a he, both her Viper and Raptor qualifications were top notch, best of her batch, and she had just upped her rifle accuracy level to Ares. He had expected a man made of steel who would take no nonsense, and instead he was faced with a woman.

"And now," the rat weasel said, "it is my great pleasure to introduce the last Commander of the Battlestar Galactica, Commander Adama."

Bill stood as the audience began to clap again and he took the podium as Doral walked to the side of the wide stage and sat. "Thank you very much," Bill said as he looked out, over the faces in the crowd. He pulled on his glasses and peered down at his note cards before looking up at the crowd and beginning his speech, "The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget the reasons why so many sacrificed so much in the cause of freedom. The cost of wearing the uniform can be high. But-"

Saul looked at Bill as he stalled.

"Sometimes it's too high," Bill pulled off his glasses; and Saul acknowledged with a sigh that Bill wasn't reading the carefully crafted note cards anymore. "You know, when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never answered the question, why?" Saul looked out at the crowd, amused by the confusion he was seeing on their faces. But when he looked at Roslin he saw calculation, not confusion, in her eyes. "Why are we as a people worth saving? We still commit murder because of greed, spite, jealousy. And we still visit all of out sins upon our children. We refuse to accept the responsibility for anything that we've done. Like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play God, create life. When that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't our fault, not really. You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things you've done anymore."

Bill backed away from the podium slowly in silence. Saul looked from Bill to the crowd, wondering silently if they were going to clap or not. And then he heard one person clapping, the sound echoeing across the deck. It was Roslin, she clapped with a tight, polite little smile. And for a few moments she clapped alone, until the crowd clapped with her.

Saul leaned towards Bill and whispered in his ear, "You are one surprising son of a bitch." Bill turned a rye eye at Saul and smiled slightly.

* * *

Hours after the end of the ceremony Laura was sitting in the observation deck when the klaxon's started to ring. It surprised her so much that she almost fell right off her chair. And then her brain caught up with her and she found herself sprinting out into the hallway, klaxons meant emergency, a shipping accident or a civilian dispute, klaxons meant get your ass to CIC. Four minutes later she entered CIC, a little out of breath but no worse for the wear. "What happened?" she asked, making to stand next to Commander Adama.

Saul Tigh handed her a piece of paper that she instantly recognized as an HQ notice, Tigh shook his head with a small chuckle; "This is a joke. The fleet's playing a joke on you."

Laura read the note and looked up at Bill over the central console, "The Cylons?" She looked back down at the piece of paper in her hands. Her eyes wide, she looked back up at Adama's face, he was regarding her solemnly. "But they're gone, been gone for forty years!" she said in disbelief.

Tigh shook his head again, he looked at Laura and Bill with a small wavering smile on his face and said, "It's a retirement prank. Come on."

Adama picked up the PA phone from the central console before looking up at his crewman sadly; "I don't think so." The P.A. rang throughout the ship as he pressed a button on the controls. "This is the Commander," he barked through the line. "Moments ago this ship received word of a Cylon attack against our home words is under way. We do not know the size or the disposition or the strength of the enemy forces. But all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial defenses."

He looked up from the brightness of the central console to look at the people around him in CIC, and Laura looked back at him in shock. "Admiral Nagala has taken personal command of the fleet aboard the Battlestar Atlantia following complete destruction of Picon Fleet Headquarters in the first wave of the attacks. How, why, doesn't really matter now. What does matter is that, as of this moment, we are at war. You've trained for this. You're ready for this. Stand to your duties; trust your fellow shipmates and we'll all get through this. Further updates as we get them. Thank you."

Laura's lips parted slightly as the news flowed over her, and then her hands began to shake. War with the Cylons. She couldn't even believe it. She had been trained with the best of them, she could shoot, she could fly, she had been trained for war, but she'd never expected it to happen.

"Tactical," he ordered.

A young man answered him, "Sir?"

"Begin to plot of all military units in the solar system, friendly or otherwise."

"Yes, sir."

Adama looked towards Tigh, "XO," he said, and Laura had to remind herself not to respond to that call. She was an XO, but not on this ship.

"Sir?"

"We're in a shooting war. We need something to shoot."

Tigh nodded, "I'll start checking munitions depots," and he moved off.

"Dee, send a signal to our fighter squadron, I want positions and tactical status immediately," he said, whipping his head around to see Dee at her station already flipping the necessary knobs and pushing the necessary buttons.

"Yes, Sir," she called.

"And get Kara Thrace out of the brig."

And through all that, Laura stood absolutely still, trying to get herself under control. This hesitation was unseemly in an officer she decided. Adama grabbed her elbow, she noted, drawing her away from the center of CIC. His gravel like voice came to her then, "Are you alright?"

She turned her head slowly, to look at him, "War with the Cylons," she muttered. She tore her arm from his grasp and stomped her way towards the hatch.

"Where are you going?" he yelled after her as he tried to catch up with her.

"Golden is in Caprica's defensive squadron," she called back, "She'll report to Caprica and fight the Cylons, I have to fight with her."

He pulled her back by her wrist, "I'm ordering you to stay put, Colonel. It's a war zone, you're not taking a Raptor into the unknown."

She pushed him away from her with enough force to knock him backwards a step, several of the CIC crew looked up at her as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "My ship is fighting without me," she said, strangely hushed, "my crew, I will find them and fight with them." She swung around, her red hair whipping savagely through the air as she sprinted from CIC.

**DISCLAIMER: IT IS NOT MINE! It belongs to some TV people, Ron D Moore maybe? Or sci-fi? (Well actually I suppose i made up the Golden Fleece and Wycott and all that balarky with the Quorum, but still...) NOT MINE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: YAY! People reviewed! Happiness!**

Laura jumped into orbit around Caprica and heard a thousand different people screaming over the wireless. She saw hundreds of burning Vipers. Hundreds of burning Raptors. And thousands of dead and bloated bodies floating all around her.

And the Battlestars, the ships Laura thought were unbeatable, were burning wrecks caught in the gravitational well of Caprica.

She gunned her Raptors engines, turned on her wireless, "Golden Fleece!" she screamed on all channels, absolutely reckless in her grief. "Read me, Golden!"

Laura's dradis beeped at her, and when she looked down she saw a ship in close proximity. She banked hard to look at it. It was a ship like she'd never seen. It gleamed in the glow of the nuclear holocaust happening below, it glided like it was cutting through water and not through space, it had no cockpit. Cylons, she thought. Cylons.

She raced towards the Raider, her engines whinning with the effort, and as she got close enough to see the Raiders red and glowing eye she shot a missle. She jammed her controls so hard upward that she thought the flight stick might snap as the missle detonated against the Raiders face. She turned her Raptor a little to look down at the burning enemy ship and was taken by surprise as another Raider erupted from a Battlestar wreck.

The new Raider didn't waste time, its guns erupted into life and even as she manuevered Laura knew that it was already too late. She was thrown forwards onto her controls by the impact and screamed, she didn't need the warning bleeps and tones from her computer to know that her ship had been hit. She turned and raced behind a chunk of Battlestar, she twisted and entered the wreck, hiding in a corridor that had held human life not half an hour before. Nukes had been used to destroy the Battlestar, leaving enough radiation and electrical interference behind that Laura was hidden. She turned off the interior light of her Raptor with one hand as she shook and held onto her side, when she took her hand away there was blood. She shook her head, looked away from her hand and punched into the wireless and heard many voices.

"OH gods! Oh gods, help us, they're killing us!" a man screamed.

"On your six! On your six! Watch it, watch it!" a woman called.

"They shut us down! Everything non responsive! Whose in command?" a woman cried.

"Jump away! Jump away now!" a man yelled.

Tears started to build up, but Laura refused to let them fall. She silenced the wireless and leaned down towards her dradis screen, studying it and its readouts for the profile of the Golden Fleece. And there, like an angel appearing out of the heavens, was the Golden Fleece. Seemingly intact and fighting. Laura did cry then, her happiness too much for her to contain as she kicked her engines into overdrive and tore out of her hiding place. She raced past Raiders, ducked and weaved to avoid shots, and rolled out of the way of debris, her focus entirely on getting to her ship. She was shot from behind, the impact jarring her wounds and killing her wireless, but she kept going.

When she saw her ship she screamed, in victory, in agony, in happiness. She screamed because there it was, close enough for her to touch. She screamed because there it was, its armor smoking, atmosphere venting. She screamed because there it was, her Vipers cutting around it, fighting for their very lives. Without her wireless she couldn't call to them, tell them that she was there for them. Without her wireless she couldn't even hear their voices. But she smiled, because she was there for them.

Then to her horror the Vipers started to land on the deck pods. They were going to jump away, retreat in the face of certain death, and she was too far to join them. They were going to jump and she wouldn't make it. She screamed and put more force into her dying engine, urging it, screaming at it to go faster. And she was so close, so close, when her beautiful ship jumped away without her.

She looked through the glass of her Raptor and was faced with an army of Raiders turning their attack towards her. And floating above their fighters, baseships, pearly and luminescent in the dark night glided gracefully forwards. She looked down at her beautiful world, beaten now, beyond saving. She thought of her people, and the genocide that had stolen their future. She looked at the Cylons out her window. And then whirled her FTL and was gone in a flash of light.

* * *

Laura took two minutes to wrap the bleeding wound on her side. She then took thirty minutes to fix her wireless. She jumped away in search of Golden once she'd gotten it to work.

* * *

"Who is this?" the nameless voice asked Laura over her Raptor's wireless. "Please, is anyone out there?" the voice pleaded.

She took a deep breath, ignoring the searing pain lancing up her chest, before switching on her headset, "This is Colonel Roslin, are you in need of assistance?"

"Thank the Gods! We're the Rising Star, we don't know what to do, we got a cease travel order, what's going on?"

She let out a small sigh, "We've been attacked by Cylon forces, the cease travel order was issued for your safety, you can not return to your world," Laura told the man calmly as she scanned her dradis screen for the Golden Fleece.

"We have to stay here? Defenseless in space?"

Laura's brow crumpled, and she rocked forwards slightly. If the Cylons found this ship, it would be destroyed, and even more of her people would die. "Do you have FTL?" she asked, looking down at the civilian ship.

"Yes, we do," The voice said hopefully.

She closed her eyes, pressing her hand against her wounds wrappings, "You can follow me," she said finally. "I am searching for my ship Golden Fleece, a Fleet ship. It survived the destruction of Caprica, I don't know what kind of protection they would be able to offer. They might not be able to protect you at all."

"We'll follow you," the man said as soon as she was finished.

Laura took a shuddering breath and nodded, "I'm sending my next FTL coordinates, jump in fifty seconds."

* * *

Saul picked up the P.A. receiver as he looked up at the Dradis board, "Attention. Inbound Dradis contact, rated highly probably enemy fighter. All hands stand by for battle maneuvers."

"Launch Vipers," Bill ordered as Saul placed the receiver on its cradle.

"Vipers clear to launch," Dee called, while listening to the chatter of the launching crews.

"Bow up half," Bill ordered, "Forward left, one quarter. Stern right full."

Gaeta picked up the P.A., "Inbound enemy contact bearing," he looked back at his own personal Dradis screen, "247, range 115, closing."

Bill strode over to look over Gaeta's shoulder, and saw the Cylons coming closer to his ship. He turned around suddenly as he heard renewed chatter over the wireless, "Firing. Miss!" one of his pilots said as he failed to destroy one of the Riaders.

"Watch it, watch it," another pilot warned.

Bill scanned over Galactica's read outs as he ordered, "Engines all ahead full."

"Ahead full, sir. Engines report ahead full." Saul confirmed as he looked down at one of the stations in CIC.

"I got him. Sarah's got him. Sarah's got him! No!" another nameless pilot swore, "I can't get a shot, I can't get a shot!"

"Vipers, stay in formation. I can't get a lock!" another one said. "Oh, wait. I got him, I got him." Bill shook his head, slightly ashamed that his pilots were so inept at war. He realized begrudgingly a few seconds later, that they'd never done anything but play at war, and now when forced to do the real thing, they didn't have the experience.

Bill's hopes were lifted as he finally saw Starbuck's Viper make it out of the tubes. On the Dradis screen he could see her chasing a Raider. "Oh, frak me!" her voice suddenly cut over the wireless. "He's irradiating some weapon at me, but it doesn't seem to have any effect." A few seconds traversed before Bill saw the Raiders signal die on the Dradis, he smiled viciously as Starbuck announced, "All Vipers, systems are a go."

With a beep Bill saw one of his Vipers die on Dradis, he shook his head in frustration as he heard Starbuck's voice again, "Hold it together, guys."

"Come on," Bill growled.

Another beep erupted in CIC, Starbuck had been hit. Bill's mind stood shocked before she yelled, "I'm all right."

"Radiological Alarm!" Dee yelled through CIC as an alarm near her station flashed red.

Saul walked to Bill's side; "He's got nukes."

"Come on!" Starbuck screamed through the wireless as Bill saw her Viper closing in on the launched nukes on Dradis; she took out two of the three. "Galactica, you've got an inbound nuke. All Vipers, break, break, break!"

Bill looked at Saul, "Brace for contact, my friend."

Saul shook his head, "I haven't heard that in a while," he said as he grabbed the central console securely.

* * *

"Do you have FTL capability?" Laura asked wearily, her eyes drifting shut.

"No, no, we don't," the captain of the Sunshine told her anxiously.

She shook herself and opened her eyes, "Abandon your ship, relocate to a ship with FTL, organize this in less than five minutes if you want to come with us."

"Can't we just follow you at sub-light?" the captain asked. "We have valuables aboard."

"No," Laura said bluntly, too tired to explain that this was a life and death time. That possessions meant nothing, that money meant nothing, that everything on that ship besides food and water and tylium was worthless. She was too tired to explain that she didn't know where she was going and that they couldn't follow if she didn't have a map. Laura's head swiveled around wildly as a loud beeping noise began to emit from somewhere in her ship, "Hold on a minute," she told the captain of the Sunshine as she leaned forward and searched her controls for the noise. She peered down at her Dradis screen; she saw two ships, Raiders size, approaching her fleet. "Frakking shit," she hissed as she sent out the next FTL coordinates to her fleet.

She set her wireless signal to every ship in the fleet, "Cylon Raiders on intercept course! Jump to new coordinates immediately!" she barked.

Around her ships were blinking out in a flash of light, she looked out the Raptors window, down at the helpless Sunshine, "Sorry," she whispered.

The Captain of the sunshine began to scream through the wireless, "No! Please no, don't leave us! Please! We'll give you anything!"

Laura began to start her jump engines.

"We have over two hundred people on board, we have children on board!" the captain screamed. "Please help us! Help us!"

Laura looked away, "I can't," she whispered as she felt her jump begin.

But the last words of Sunshine's captain reached her before she was engulfed in white light, "I hope you rot in hell for this!"

* * *

"Galactica, Starbuck. The forward section of the port flight pod has sustained heavy damage. Galactica, you've got violent decompressions all along the port flight pod. Do you read me, Galactica?"

Bill peered around CIC, he watched as two technicians righted a badly hurt crewman and waved down a young woman holding a medic kit. He looked down at Saul, who was leaning over the central console, looking through various papers. "Radiation levels within norms," Bill told him, "The hull plating kept out most of the hard stuff."

"Sir," Gaeta called, "port stern thrusters are locked open. All bow thrusters non-responsive. We're in an uncontrolled lateral counterclockwise spin."

"Send a damage control party up to aux control and have them cut all the fuel lines to the stern thruster," Bill ordered, Gaeta turned toward a com. unit with a nod.

"Okay, we have got buckled supports all along the port flight pod and chain reaction decompressions occurring everywhere forward of frame 2 and 250," Saul said as he took three more pieces of paper from three different crewmembers and scanned over them.

"That's a problem," Bill admitted "Saul, take personal command of the damage control units."

"Me?" Saul asked, surprised.

"Sir," Bill looked up at Gaeta who was calling him, "the stern thruster's still locked open. We need you."

Bill nodded and turned to look at Saul in the face, "You're either the X.O. or you're not."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

A Fleet signal, too small to be a Battlestar, and definately not Golden. Laura manipulated her Raptor towards the signal, instructing her fleet to keep its distance as she did so.

The signal was a Raptor, and the pilot was someone Laura recognized, "Boomer," she said in surprise. "This is Colonel Roslin, do you remember me?"

Boomer looked out of her Raptor window, stared at Laura, "Yes," she said, "I remember, you were on Galactica, helping with the decommissioning. You slept in the empty bed beneath mine."

Laura smiled tiredly, "How's your ship?" she asked.

"Colonel, I've got two communication pods left, sir, but that's it. No jiggers, no drones, no markers, nothing."

"Have you heard anything?"

"I've been getting weird reports from all over. The Viper Mark sevens, the Cylons shut them down like they threw a switch or something. The only fighters that are having any success at all are either old or in need of some major overhaul." Boomer looked over her shoulder as a blundering man elbowed her in the back of the head.

"Who's that?" Laura asked as she squinted her eyes to try to see his face.

"Gaius Baltar, my ECO traded his life for his on Caprica," Boomer looked over her shoulder again and said overly loudly, "Hope he's worth it!" Boomer looked back at Laura through the Raptor windows, "Sorry, sir."

Laura shook her head effortlessly, "Don't be. He better be worth it. Put him on the wireless, please?"

Boomer didn't move to give a headset to the man, she was looking at Laura, concern etched into her young features, "There's blood on your window," she said.

Laura looked around her cockpit, blood, her blood, had spurted out onto her window when she'd first gotten wounded. It looked like more then it was. "I'm fine," Laura assured.

Boomer nodded and turned towards the Baltar, waving a wireless headset in his general direction irritably. He pulled on with a bewildered look in his eyes, "Hello?" he asked.

"Doctor Baltar, I need you to analyze the Cylons and their technology. Boomer will give you all the records she has and I'll transmit my own reports to you as well," she said.

"Uh, yes, yes of course."

* * *

"What was the final count?" Bill asked as he pulled on his glasses to peer at Saul.

"Twenty-six walked out. Eighty-five didn't," Saul responded, not looking into Bill's eyes. He motioned to a piece of paper lying on top of the center console; "There's a munitions depot at Ragnar anchorage."

Bill took the offered paper and looked down at it skeptically, "Boy, it's a super bitch to anchor a ship there," he admitted.

Saul looked up defensively, "The book says that there are fifty pallets of class D warhead in storage there. They should also have all the missiles and small arms munitions we need-"

"Verify that."

Saul stood up straight and looked at Bill, "Any word from Colonel Roslin?" he asked.

Bill looked up at him, surprised that Saul had even remembered there had been a woman named Roslin on the ship. He shook his head, "No, didn't expect to hear back from her though."

"Do you think she's dead now, sir?" Saul asked, seemingly distraught at the notion.

"I don't know, why do you care so much?" Bill asked, his eyebrows shooting up questioningly.

Saul shrugged, "I looked at her record," he admitted, "she was a fine soldier."

Saul turned away from Bill, to verify Ragnar's depots, while Bill looked down at the center console. As soon as Saul verified Ragnar's depots they'd jump to its position.

**DISCLAIMER: If it were mine that would be weird and I wouldn't know what to say. But it would probably run along these lines, 'you couldn't have given it to me _before _you wrote 4.5? really?'**


End file.
